A HalfGiant's Torment
by Nayeri
Summary: Harry has grown up with a creature heritage, though he doesn't know it. He is then abandoned the summer before his second year. Can Severus get over his blindness and help Harry figure out where he belongs, or will Harry end up dead or worse?
1. Alone?

(Story notes: I am not abandoning my other 5 or so stories. Indeed, I am doing this partially as a favor to one of my new favorite authors. Also, I found the challenge idea interesting. This is in Answer to Big Future challenge by Last Crazy horn. I dedicate it to all who live through being different.)

_**Prologue**_

Harry had never been considered 'normal' by any means. He was an orphan left at the door step of his aunt and uncle (who hated him), he tended to make strange things happen when he got scared (which was most of the time), he was bullied relentlessly by his cousin and his friends whenever they got up the courage to approach him (which was about half the time he saw Dudley); he also happened to be taller and broader than his cousin, who was a month older than him.

This would have been fine if he was full grown and got all the nutrition he needed to get to that size. However, it was quite noticeable when, at four or five, he was maybe a head shorter than Vernon. This was odd for a normal person, and the Dursley's pegged it down to pure Freakishness, as they knew he didn't get enough food to warrant that amountof growth. The one time they took him to the doctor over it, the doctor said that he had a case of Gigantism.

This was a turning point in Harry's life, as he was just going into school. When one's cousin, who is technically smaller, is bigger than everyone else, it tends to make one's school life miserable. So Harry, who was very timid for someone nearly as large as most adults by the time he was eight, spent most of the time running and keeping out of people's way. The only place he could find solace was the library, the only place that Dudley and his gang would not intrude on him. This might have signaled an increase in his grades, if it wasn't for the fact that he had to suppress even his natural talent if he wanted to eat.

Meeting Hagrid was, perhaps, the best moment of his life. Both because it got him away from the Dursley's, and he learned that he wasn't the only one who was of abnormal size. It was obvious that Hagrid was surprised as he was to find someone near to his own size. That didn't decrease Hagrid's helpfulness, and they went to Diagon Alley after the boat's size had been increase surreptitiously.

Diagon Alley would have been a nightmare if Harry had gone on his own, or with someone smaller than him that first time. Everything was smaller than him, it seemed, as he had reached about seven feet in the last three years. If there is one good thing about being with someone bigger than one is, it is that they usually know where to go to find clothes and school supplies to fit one's size. Thus it was only about eleven by the time they had gotten the money, the school supplies, and were heading to Olivander's.

Harry grimaced to himself as they entered the store. The place was packed ceiling to floor, and nearly wall to wall, with boxes of wands. There was hardly any room for a man who was too large to really be allowed, and a boy that was getting close to being that way.

To Harry's relief, Olivander soon came out of the back, his wizened gaze taking in both of them. He smiled at Harry, and murmured "I wondered when I would be seeing you, Mister … Potter." The man seemed to hesitate over Potter, as if he didn't wish to say the name but had to to keep suspicions down.

This introduction began the longest, and strangest, half-hour of Harry's life to date. First there was the measuring. Then, once that was done, was the trial of the wands. Nearly every single wand rejected him, including the one Olivander seemed anxious for him to try (Holly 11" Phoenix Feather). Instead, much to the surprise of Olivander, a rarer wand that had yet to choose a master was the one that responded. It was a 10" Cedar wand with a Unicorn Hair core; a subtle wand, with great propensity toward protection and healing.

Harry would reflect later in life that, with such a wand, it was no great surprise that when he was sorted he ended up as a Badger. His first year was action packed, but not really of high risk. However, the summer before his second year would prove to cause him the most chaos.

_**Chapter 1**_

Severus grumbled to himself as he searched his stores. He was running low on some of the more common ingredients, and one or two of the rarer, more expensive ones. He was going to have to buy more soon, unless he wanted to go through another year without it. Herbalists were notorious for running out just when you needed the ingredients the most.

He was just about to pen a note to Albus, telling him that he would be gone for the day, when that same man stepped through his office door. He looked tired, as if he had found out something he'd rather not. Severus started to stand, only to have the Headmaster wave him back into his seat.

"Severus, my friend, I need to ask something of you. And before you say no, please remember what it was like to be in that position." said Albus quietly. Severus gazed at the other man warily, fully suspecting that what he was about to be asked was not going to be pleasant for him. Albus never said something like that, unless he was certain Severus wouldn't approve.

Albus returned the gaze steadily, with an almost dull look. He said quietly "I need you to watch after a student. He was muggle raised, but was recently abandoned at The Leaky Cauldron after his family finally had enough of his heritage." His visage seemed to sink even more into itself, and there seemed to be a hint of guilt in the man's eyes.

As for Severus, he was whiter than normal, and his black eyes stood out even more so as they glittered with rage. He didn't care which House the student came from; for the so-called family to abandon a child to the not-so-tender mercy's of the wolves that stalked in and around Diagon Alley was criminal. He hissed out his agreement through gritted teeth, and got up to take the fireplace to the tavern that was the gateway to Diagon Alley.

Either Albus had purposefully neglected to tell him before he was already committed on his path, or he had moved to fast for the man to get it out before he was already beginning to step into the fireplace. One way or the other, when Albus said "The boy is Mr. Potter," he nearly lost his footing when he came out on the other side of the Floo connection.

Harry sighed, looking about the room sadly. He hadn't liked the Dursley's, but they were still family. Besides, the basement had been more comfortable than this one bed tiny room. He was already taller than most men, and he couldn't really fit in the bed meant for smaller people. The only good thing about being tall, was that he was also mistaken for being older than he was, which allowed him to move around Diagon Alley with relative impunity.

Leaning against the head of the bed, he thought back to the past. He supposed what the hat had said was true: he was too soft of heart, and too willing to work to clean up someone else's mess. He was also loyal to a fault, even to the point of forgiving those that didn't deserve it. Still, if that Dobby creature hadn't shown up yesterday, he would likely have spent a miserable, but safe, rest of the summer in his room or outside doing chores.

Instead, he had been sentenced to exile from the only home he had known until he went to Hogwarts. Scrubbing at his face, he checked the clock. It would soon be daylight, and the stores would start opening in half an hour. Supposing he might as well get ready for the day, he got up and began to squirm into his clothes, noticing that they would soon be too small for him.

Slipping his wand into the holder he'd gotten last year, he cleaned his face and teeth, and brushed out the tangles in his hair. The last hair cut he'd gotten had been before his first year at Hogwarts, and was finally starting to lay flat now that it had grown out. He'd need to clip the bangs out of his eyes, or something, but he was quite satisfied that no one quite knew who he was now.

Finally ready to face the day, his first one on his own, he headed downstairs to get a plate of breakfast. Eggs, sausages, porridge, toast and orange juice made for a hearty meal. It was as he was eating that the fireplace flared green, and someone stepped out of it. It wasn't so much that this was the first time he has seen someone using the Floo that he stared. It was the fact that the person stepping out of the fireplace was none other than Severus Snape, Potion Master at Hogwarts, and Harry's #1 tormenter in the school.

(End Author's note: Yay, cliffy. So, Harry's first year and up to his twelfthbirthday was canon pretty much. Now things will get interesting. Please R&R.)


	2. News

(Author's note: As I cannot get a hold of FotR, I am updating AHgT. And you readers are lucky: I'm finally putting this on the site. So, without further ado, on we go.)

_Last time:_

_It was the fact that the person stepping out of the fireplace was none other than Severus Snape, Potion Master at Hogwarts, and Harry's #1 tormenter in the school._

Harry gulped quietly, and lowered his head, hoping the Professor wouldn't notice him. He had chosen a spot in a darkened corner for a reason, after all: so he would be left alone. However, knowing his luck, he was about to be discovered and dragged either to the Dursley's, or to Hogwarts. It wouldn't matter that he hadn't gotten his school items (he had only just arrived the day before), nor would it matter that his relatives had forbidden him to ever return to Privet Drive. All the Professor would see was the fact that he was not at home, therefore breaking the rule that Dumbledore had given him: never leave home alone.

He wondered if Dumbledore had told him to remain at Privet Drive because of the magic he had felt failing as Uncle Vernon had driven to London (Harry would never understand why he had been taken to the one place that offered him sanctuary besides Hogwarts). Had that magic been some protective spell put together by Dumbledore? He suspected it was likely the case, but that it didn't matter now thanks to the fact that it no longer existed.

Deciding that there was nothing he could do if he was spotted, he returned to his breakfast. Unfortunately, he knew that he was quickly reaching his limit, and would have to ask Tom to pack up the rest of the meal for later consumption. He mentally cursed his inability to eat more than a fourth of his food after only a month of what had once been normal fare for him. He reflected that he had gotten weaker willed after enjoying the fare at Hogwarts, as well as spoiled. He would have to train himself to keep his meals small, and never take more than his share of goodies again. He would never survive on his own otherwise.

Severus looked about the room, his black eyes scanning every face without being obvious. The boy had to be there somewhere; the headmaster had said that he had been dropped of there like a sack of garbage. Yet he could not see anyone with the boy's obvious messy hair. There was someone in the darkest corner that might be him, but he couldn't be positive, and didn't wish to approach someone who might be hot tempered.

Deciding that his best bet was to talk to Tom, he went up to the bar, waiting until the owner had finished floating a magic leftover box, that wouldn't just store it, but preserve it, to the man in the corner. He then greeted Tom, glancing briefly to his side as the man who had put his breakfast in the box slipped out into the alleyway that was the entrance to Diagon Alley. He then did a double take, pardon himself to Tom, and followed the one who had just left, cursing himself for not checking that man closer!

Harry grimaced to himself, putting the leftover box in a pocket after using its shrinking feature. He then carefully slipped behind Snape to the Alley, took out his wand, and tapped the brick. He glanced back, before slipping into Diagon. He had seen Snape do a double take, and knew the man would be after him shortly. He had to shake him until his shopping was finished.

He carefully made his way to the side street that sold clothes for those larger-than-normal wizards, making sure that Snape wouldn't be able to follow him. After years of avoiding Dudley, he had gotten good at that. Good enough to avoid the Professor, who apparently wasn't chasing him, simply pursuing him calmly.

He entered the store that Hagrid had shown him a year before, glad that he had sent away for money during the school year. He didn't want to Gringotts, and risk getting caught before he could finish shopping. His musings were cut short as the tailor approached him, a soft smile on his face.

"Good morning, young Harry. Time for a new outfit, I'm wagering?" the tailor said in his liquid velvet voice. When Harry nodded, he beckoned for the overlarge preteen to follow him to the back, which was where he measured and fit all his customers. He did have pre-made clothes, but for the young or extremely rich customers, his clothes were custom made. The young especially, because they needed the clothing to last them the entire year until they could get to the Alley again.

Severus growled under his breath, tempted to perform a Point Me charm. He had lost the boy a block back, much to his chagrin. He needed to practice his spying abilities if a single 12 year old could give him the slip. Sighing, he decided to go to the apothecary and stock up on the ingredients that were low in his stores. He suspected that he would not see the boy until he was ready to be found, and as long as he was on Diagon Alley, Potter couldn't get into too much trouble.

Harry stood still as the measuring tape did its work, while a pen and paper wrote down the results. The tailor was checking it off against his previous measuring, and preparing bolts of cloth for the new robes, uniforms and casual clothing that Harry needed. As he did, he asked "So, Harry, have you discovered who your father is yet?"

Harry looked at the tailor sharply, and said in a hiss "My father was James Potter. Who else could it be? It just happened to be my bad luck that I developed Gigantism" He blinked, puzzled, when the tailor let out a harsh laugh. He asked in a growl "What's so damn funny?"

The tailor replied "You are; or more precisely, the Muggles who told you that ridiculous lie, are." When he saw Harry's confusion, the tailor sighed, and gestured to the measuring tape to finish, and for Harry to sit down. When the boy had, he said "You cannot have Gigantism, because you are alive at 12. You see, while Muggles can live to 30, even 40 years of age with Gigantism, wizards cannot. The reason is, is that the magic reacts badly to the disease, causing the heart to grow even larger than a Muggle's would, until it pops. Usually at the age of eight or nine. No, given the fact that you are alive and going into your second year, it is pretty safe to say that your father is not James, nor do you have Gigantism."

Harry's face twisted in angry pain, and he said sharply "Then who the hell is? And why am I so frickin big?" His eyes glittered like fresh cut emeralds, his magic rolling along his skin like an extra set of clothes.

The tailor said softly, warily, as he sensed the growing turmoil of the young wizard "I do not know who your father is, else I would have told you instead of asking. I would guess, though, that you are big the same reason that Hagrid is big. You are a half-giant." He watched carefully, unconsciously pulling out his wand in case he had to shield himself. The boy was powerful and that kind of bombshell usually would set off any pre-teen. He had no wish to get blown up for being the messenger.

(End AN: Okay, sorry for the lateness of this. Please R&R.)


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